Roman-1(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(102)

“Stop it,” I hiss, wiggling frantically to get away and retake my seat.

“No. Why should I? I’ve gone three bloody months without the feel of you in my arms, in my bed, surrounding my cock. Why should I give it up now that I have you again?” he asks, circling precariously close to the wet heat building in my core.

An inch closer and he’ll know how much I want him, and that I cannot have. Not yet, not till I have this damnable desire under control.

“You can’t give up something you don’t have, asshole. Now get your hands off me and leave me alone. I want to go back to work,” I hiss, planting my sneaker-clad feet against the door and shoving, managing to scoot back to the seat and my little corner of safety.

“You are not going back there. We’re going to the airport where my jet is waiting, and then we’re headed to your parents’ place so that you can see your father and bloody well reassure him that you are fine. Then we’re going home, and you are not to say one more bloody word!”

The biting warning in his voice freezes me to the spot, and I cringe, feeling every nerve tense when he spears a hand into my hair and jerks our faces together.

The violence is so startling I can do nothing but breathe and stare deeply into his eyes, now the color of dew-moistened moss.

“We are going to talk about what you walked in on three months ago, and then, when everything’s cleared up, I’m fucking taking my wedding night.”





Chapter Thirty




“Oh, Sissy! I’m so glad he found you, sweetheart, Daddy’s been so worried.”

My eyes mist as Mama pulls me in for a bone crushing embrace. The scent of her perfume and the baby powder she uses is so comforting I have no choice but to hug her back, clutching at her like she’s a lifeline.

I’d missed her so much it’s unbelievable that I’d gone three months without hearing her voice or feeling the quiet strength of her love. Now that I’m back and enfolded in her loving embrace it’s all I can do not to break down and tell her why I’d run in the first place.

Thanks to Vincent’s non-stop commentary on the plane ride over, I know that my coward father hadn’t told Mama the truth about my runner. She thinks I’d gotten cold feet about my marriage and run away because I couldn’t get a grip.

I’d tell her the truth and relish the way I know she’ll go at him, at them, if not for the fear that Beau’s health would take a sudden turn for the worst. He loves Mama with an intensity that is scary, and I know that if she ever looked at him the way I now look at Vincent, he’d be broken.

“Hey, Mama.”

It’s all I can say as she pushes me away and takes in my waitressing uniform and mussed hair.

“Glory, child, you look like a hobo. Go on upstairs and freshen up. I’ll let Beau know you’re here.”

“Thanks, Mrs Bennet,” Vincent says, clamping a hand to my forearm in warning. “We’ll be down in an hour.”

He lets go only when the door closes firmly behind us, and I watch in shock as he locks the door and pockets the key, his eyes a steely green that leaves me shivering.

This man is the same man I’d seen on the roof the night he saved me from Eric, and I’m thrown back to that morning just before Thanksgiving when Mom had called him a bad boy.

I see it now, that hard, roughened interior instead of the suave, polished man I’ve known thus far. This Vincent is not about to manipulate me or trick me into doing what he wants. No, what I see is a man who knows what he wants and is more than willing to use force to get it.

I still feel safe though, ironically, and that takes the sting out of his next words.

“You can be the brat you are and throw tantrums and yell at me, I don’t give a shit, but if you so much as breathe a hint of our issues in front of your mother I will tan your hide. She’s had enough stress. She doesn’t need more.”

“She’s my mother. She deserves to know what an asshole she’s married to,” I spit, putting more distance between us while keeping him in my line of sight. “I’m not here for him; I’m here because I know she needs me.”

That’s such a monumental lie and I know it. So does he, if the skeptical expression is accurate. Who am I kidding here? I’d almost died at the thought of my daddy being…I can’t even say it.

What if he’d died or been seriously ill while I’d been sulking and licking my wounds in Georgia?

“Look, dove, I realize we have a lot to discuss and that right now you don’t understand everything. That’s my fault, and I take full responsibility. I’m just asking you to let that go and give Beau the comfort and love he needs from you. Just for today. Tomorrow you can go back to being pissed off and defensive, just—”